


In the Woods

by therisingharvestmoon



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Other, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 12:45:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4020304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therisingharvestmoon/pseuds/therisingharvestmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern day Thranduil lives alone in the depths of a human forest. Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> Request:  
> Oh shit so I came here to request a fanfiction completely unrelated but I got distracted by your side bar and... could you write modern day Thranduil lives in a cabin wearing plaid? Nor sure about plot... but pls?
> 
> (You can request a fic in my ask box at therisingharvestmoon.tumblr.com)

Gentle, pale man's hands stroked the wooden banister carefully, as if to caress it. The fine rings of age through showed that the tree had lived through the wars and triumphs and defeats of men, been lopped down to house him and his children, and was still but a sapling compared to this once-King.

He sinks down from the step to the ground floor, surrounded once more by the wood and nature and life, but this time and for quite some time, in the forests of man. He wears their informal attire - plaid red buttoned over his broad shoulders, plain black pants fitted around the slim waist. His long blond hair is as out of place as the thick, dark eyebrows on his face, drawn presently into a frown. How strange it is, Thranduil reflects, that it is inside where their world is aglow with yellow light, and outside dark and cold and stripped of all colour in the moonlight. He has hidden for too long. He longs to be among the stars.

He keeps candles to keep the memory of how things used to be. They flicker as a draught whistles up under the cabin door, and he jumps at the sudden noise. Thranduil, scared? But a knock on the door out here? He can only see a shape of a person on the other side of the curtains that cover the glass on the door. A woman, by the height.

He cracks the door open, looking down, his voice is rough from disuse. "Can I help you?"

She is upset. It's freezing out here, and the fire flickers as another gust tears through. He sees her shiver, and suppressed a sigh. "You had better come in."

"Thanks! Ugh - brrr. It's so cold! Thank you. My car..."

He has closed the door behind her and she feels unsettled. Not because he's a stranger, because she is so drawn to him when the light hits his face.

Thranduil gestures to the fire place, crackling and roaring. "Here, please."

It almost sounds like a command, yet she follows it, watching him. He looks more unsure than she feels. She is bewildered by the rugged clothes and warrior's build, by the stern and otherworldly face. "T-thank you. I'm sorry. Would - would I be able to just stay here a minute, and use your phone? My car... Sorry. My car broke down so I started walking, but I must have taken the wrong track. Then got off the path."

He couldn't tell if her shivering was from the cold or from him, poor creatures these mortals were. 

"Wait here," he spoke gently, finding the cupboard behind the stairs, fetching a wool blanket. "Here. You must be frozen."

She grasps in and tugs it around her shoulders gratefully, shivering in the way one does when the blood re-enters their body, returning from numb. It was how he felt to have a conversation with another in so long. He had no idea how long it had been. She smiled when he looked back at her, and he realised she'd caught him glazing.

Thranduil cleared his throat. "I am sorry, I do not have a phone." He tried a jesting smile on for size. "I'm afraid it's part of the lifestyle."

She nodded in false understanding, then looked concerned. "Oh, right. Oh. Well... it's just... I need to call someone... 'Cos I don't really know where we are here, or how to get back to my car, and this snow - "

He nodded. "I agree, this snow is most unpleasant. You're lucky you didn't break your leg coming down here next to the river. Please, do not venture out again."

If she was surprised at the way he talked or at what he said, she didn't show it. He looked in her eyes and saw parts relief and wonderment and fear. They always wondered why they were so drawn to him, and frightened by the intensity of it. He tried the reassuring smile again.

"I am the only dwelling for many leagues, as you most likely know. If you stay, I will walk with you to where you need to go when the storm subsides."

As if on cue, the wind whistled through the tiny cracks of Thranduil's modest log cabin, screaming and flickering at the fire. She moved closer to the warmth and to him, snuggled beneath the blanket. Under that she wore a modest wool shirt and leggings, but not much more. He took one second more to appreciate her shape, then flicked his ice blue eyes to her face. "Stay."

Large snow flakes dolloped the small square windows as he spoke. She shuddered. "I think I'll have to."

He inclined his head in a nod. "My apologies for my lack of furniture. I have my bed, but I sleep here when it's cold. I will bring you a pillow."

"Thanks..." she mumbled weakly as he went into what must have been the bedroom.

He spoke from the door, only a hand visible as it clutched the door frame in pause. "My name is Thranduil, by the way."

She blinked. "Than... Thran... du... il? Oh. Um. I'm Willow." 

He was back in less than a minute and found her sitting by the hearth.

"Willow..." He handed her a cotton covered, goose down pillow. It was cold from being in the other room. "Thanks again. I'm really sorry to do this to you. Heh. I kinda have nowhere else to go so uh yeah, here's hoping you're not a serial killer!" She laughed nervously, but for the banter, she was still held entirely by his gaze.

Thranduil cocked his head to the side, watching her watching him. "Is there anything you require?"

She hesitated. "No... thanks, but no." He turned to leave. "Um... just one thing though! What are you going to do?"

He still had that curious look on his face. "I will leave you to your privacy."

Willow looked down at her hands then back up at him. "Oh, okay. Oh, it's just... I just thought that with the fire being in here, I wouldn't want you to go into the cold in there because I was dumb and got lost and had to sleep on your floor. Wouldn't there be enough room for both of us, surely?"

A smile curled the sides of Thranduil's mouth upward. "If it is what you wish, then... Yes, I would much rather be in here... with the warmth." He gazed past her into the flames. "It has been so long... I am grateful for the company."

What an odd way he spoke, Willow thought. It was quite endearing actually, and she was more than a little aroused when he crossed his long legs and sat next to her, fine blond hair spread across his plaid chest. He stared at the flames, allowing her to take in his features. The long, straight aquiline nose. Sharp cheek bones. Curved and pouty mouth. Intense eyes beneath that heavy brow. All of a sudden, heat flooded to her groin. She felt her nipples tighten beneath the sweater. She felt her cheeks grow red as she could not help but imagine this mysterious loner touch her with his slender hands, his long fingers, to see his naked broad chest and make him make deep noises from his throat. He turned to her then, as though he could read her mind.

"Willow?"

She gulped. "Yes?"

"Lay with me?" 

He spread an arm back to indicate the floor behind them, the shadows of the fire flickered on the boards invitingly. She still hadn't warmed up, and hoped this was a mutual response. She wondered why she wasn't more scared - of the fact that he was a stranger, or that she was thinking what she was thinking, or that she hoped he was thinking the same thing with his invitation. 

He lay first and she in front of him. Imagining what an uncomfortable sleep it would be for him, she pushed the pillow back a little so he could rest his head on it too. He slid forward at the invitation, and she could feel his warm breath through her thick hair now. She lifted the blanket, still without turned to him, and he pulled it up over both of them, letting their body heat do the rest. Cocooned. 

Willow couldn't drift off, not being as turned on as she was, especially with him there, an inch away but not touching her. As soon as she opened her mouth to say something, he spoke.

"Willow?"

"Mmm?" She feigned sleepiness. 

"It is all so sudden, so close. But you do not mind." It wasn't a question.

"I don't mind at all." She could tell he was probing. He was probably as freaked out but excited as she was. She hoped. She helped along. "In fact... You know, I wouldn't mind if you got a little closer. I'm still cold. You know, if you want."

His voice was suddenly low, breathy. She smiled, glad he couldn't see but glad he had reacted this way. "I haven't been this close to another person... in so long... Is what you're saying - you want me to touch you?" 

Laying on her side had put pressure on her groin, and she was so very wet. "Please touch me. Please do." She pushed her backside up into his groin and immediately felt him stir, shocked at her actions but needing them to continue. She could feel him, hard against her, as he lithely pressed his whole body against hers, groaning ever so slightly and sliding a hand around to her front, slipping it under her sweater, up over the warmth of her belly and over her breast, squeezing. She sighed in response, unbelievably turned on. 

He continued to kneed her breast and rub himself against her from behind through their clothes until she felt her lower lips sliding together as he moved her and she couldn't take it. She rolled over to face him, looking at the intensity of his face before moving in to kiss him. This was somehow even more intimate, and he responded only gently at first. While she kissed him, Willow rolled her hips up toward his, pressing against his erection with her crotch. As she did, his kiss deepened and he suckled on her lower lip, slipping his tongue in to glide over her teeth. She bucked against him again, needy, and he slipped a hand down the elastic of her leggings, finding her underwear too, pulling them back. As he did, she opened her legs for his access, and she groaned louder than she ever had when he found her clit, circling her wetness beneath then back up. It was painstaking,; she wanted him inside her at the same time. 

Her wish was granted soon enough. Thranduil knelt, pushed his pants and underwear down and his huge yet slender cock sprang out. Willow grasped it with her hand immediately, circling him with her hand and finding the wetness as he hand found hers. He fucked both of her small hands and once, moaning loudly as she squeezed and circled, cock slipping tightly through her two-handed fist as he thrust above her. He briefly regained composure, adjusting himself above her to make room for his own hands, and found her sopping wet cunt with three fingers - clit then inside, clit then inside. She was so tight, she could almost crush the bones. Suddenly, she brushed his hand aside and let him readjust himself. He placed two fingers at the top of her to guide himself, then slid inside. Just. She was so tight. They groaned together, thrusting, trying to find friction in the wetness and succeeding. She accommodated his length and width nicely, so well that even his fingertips slipped in every now and then as he rubbed her clit relentlessly. She screamed his name as she came and he fell over the edge soon after, in hot spurts deep inside her. 

He lay inside and on top of her for a while, in a position where she could still breathe but feel his whole body's strength. He felt her ragged little heartbeat through her clit against his pubic bone. He smiled into her neck.


End file.
